Oh, here we go again.
Glancing at the bewildered Ollivander, Dumbledore, unable to directly confront the situation, raised his right hand to massage his mildly aching forehead. From yesterday to today, he had witnessed too many instances like this; Elena always seemed to question conventional wizarding wisdom from rather peculiar angles.
"Ahem, Mr. Ollivander, there's no need to fret over this matter. As far as I know, most Hogwarts graduates still use the wands they purchased when they began their studies. Let's continue selecting a wand as usual."
Dumbledore cleared his throat, giving Elena a disapproving glance, then gently patted Ollivander's shoulder in an attempt to steer things back on track.
"Oh, yes, of course. Dear, please raise your arm."
Ollivander snapped out of his daze, lightly snapping his fingers, causing a silver measuring tape to unfurl and flutter around Elena, sizing her up. Meanwhile, Ollivander busied himself between the shelves, moving boxes containing wands down.
"Every Ollivander wand contains incredibly powerful magical substances, that's the essence of it, Miss Kaslana."
Carrying a stack of wobbling wand boxes back to Elena, Ollivander explained, "We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, dragon heartstrings, and serpent nerves as wand cores. To fully harness these potent magical items, you'd need to grow at least four or five years older."
"Dragon heartstrings? Serpent nerves?"
The silver-haired girl keenly caught Ollivander's words. Before Dumbledore could intervene, she swiftly inquired, "Do these magical materials retain their properties—um, magic—once they're extracted from living magical creatures?"
"Indeed, in a way, each wand has its own life. It's an art, not just a simple stick."
The old man nodded proudly. The Ollivander family's secrets—determining wand cores and wood, the fusion process, and matching wands to ideal owners—were coveted by other wandmakers.
"All right."
Ollivander didn't seem keen to delve further into the topic. He handed a wand to Elena, saying, "Here, Miss Kaslana, try this one. Vine wood with a dragon heartstring, ten and three-quarter inches. Given your exceptional intelligence, this might suit you better."
Gurgle~
At that moment, Ollivander was certain he heard a faint swallow.
Elena took the wand, murmuring softly.
"So, the magic sealed within each wand... ingredients... they have an extended shelf life, right?"
As she spoke, the silver-haired girl's gaze grew increasingly excited. She glanced around at the myriad boxes, lightly licking her lips—each wand was like a tiny jar of preserves!
Hum~
The wand Elena held emitted a strange vibration, and the glossy surface dimmed visibly at an alarming rate.
"Oh, goodness." Before Elena could react, Mr. Ollivander's expression changed abruptly. He swiftly took the wand from her.
"Maple, thirteen inches, a Fire-Dragon's heartstring. Let's try—"
Before the silver-haired girl could grasp the wand, it shivered slightly at her touch, then turned dismally gray.
"No, no—try this one, a combination of Ash with Unicorn tail hair, nine inches seven, accommodating and intelligent... hiss..."
As Elena tried one wand after another, she vividly witnessed tiny beads of sweat forming on Ollivander's forehead. The wand shop's benches and floors were cluttered with wands, each presenting a silent, lifeless state.
Towards the end, it was as though a dreadful contagion spread. One row after another, wands went inert in Elena's touch, shrouding the entire shop in an eerie, inexplicable atmosphere.
"Hey, isn't this a bit too much?!"
Elena raised an eyebrow in annoyance. Why did everyone else get spectacular displays of light and power in a wand shop, while she seemed to cast a deathly pall over every wand she touched?
"Calm down, don't rush it, don't rush it."
Ollivander wiped the fine sweat from his brow, taking a deep breath, a mix of consoling Elena and reassuring himself.
Having crafted wands for so long, Ollivander had never encountered a wizard who made wands feel afraid—yes, afraid.
As the wand's creator, he sensed the faint tremors emanating from each wand, akin to small creatures encountering a fierce predator.
"A rather, um, special customer. I think we'll find one that's less... apprehensive of you—I mean, more suitable and attuned to you—let me see—ah!"
Ollivander glanced at Dumbledore, suddenly realizing something, and hurriedly searched a box seemingly placed in a corner. He solemnly handed the wand to Elena.
"An extraordinary combination—Holly wood, Phoenix feather, eleven inches. Symbolizing the perseverance of holly and the courage and hope of a phoenix feather. This should be fine."
"Er, Professor Dumbledore..."
Elena blinked, instinctively glancing at Dumbledore. Wasn't this the wand of the chosen one, Harry Potter himself? She wasn't worried about the wand choosing her; she feared accidentally scaring this little wand to death and facing the consequences when Harry arrived.
"Any questions? Go ahead and give it a try, as recommended by Mr. Ollivander..."
Dumbledore smiled gently, refraining from further reaction.
"Sigh... truth be told, I have a foreboding feeling—"
Elena sighed, taking the wand in her hand, amid Ollivander's somewhat expectant yet nervous gaze.
As she grasped the wand's tip, the entire Ollivander Wand Shop echoed with a resounding phoenix cry. Red hues shimmered from the wand's head, casting a warm golden layer across the space.
Ollivander sighed in relief, clapping his hands with a smile. "Oh, splendid! Really, splendid... Huh?!"
Suddenly, the wand in Elena's hand began to shake violently, unlike any other wand before, more intense and direct.
Whoosh~
Snap.
The now frenzied Phoenix wand slipped from Elena's grasp, charging upwards and crashing forcefully against the solid ceiling before losing strength and falling back to the ground.
"So, this wand, symbolizing courage... did I scare it away?"
Elena scowled, massaging her palm—the force left a prominent red mark. She'd decided; during her time at Hogwarts, she would definitely have a feast of phoenix meat to vent her frustration.
"Should be, I suppose."
Ollivander nodded blankly, his gaze shifting from Elena to the scattered wands, plunged into a long silence. Even he couldn't find a suitable wand right away.
At that moment, Dumbledore, who had been quietly observing, intervened.
"It seems, Mr. Garrick, that you'll need to craft an extra wand specifically for Miss Elena Kaslana, just as you've done before."
Initially, wandmakers in the wizarding world were rather casual about such matters before Garrick Ollivander took over the family business. Customers often handed them materials they favored, inherited from ancestors, or relied upon within their families.
This understanding changed only with Garrick Ollivander's arrival—the very Mr
. Ollivander who, at this moment, felt a shiver down his spine as he comprehended Dumbledore's request.
"Another... custom-made wand?"
Ollivander's voice quivered slightly, his expression visibly anxious.
"Yes, I believe it's necessary. Elena, rest assured, you'll have a wand well-suited for you before the commencement of your Hogwarts studies."
Dumbledore smiled, assuring Elena as he gently guided her out of the shop.
As they left, the Ollivander Wand Shop fell silent, the echo of Dumbledore's words lingering in the air. Garrick Ollivander remained, staring at the scattered, inert wands, contemplating the formidable task ahead.
"Goodness... it's like I'm opening a Pandora's box."
With a long, heavy sigh, Ollivander began to organize the wands, preparing the workbench for another arduous, yet fascinating, journey into the creation of a wand—one specifically tailored for the enigmatic Miss Elena Kaslana.
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